A Poem: Evolution of God

Life has been really busy for 2 straight years and I've about had it.
Recently, I have pulled back. I am trying to make some healthy adjustments.
One of the habits that has suffered during this frantic time is my writing.
Writing is a release for me.
A respite.
A place of peace.
And I haven't been visiting it much lately.
And so, here is my first piece of writing in a good bit.
It's raw. It's honest. 
But it's my journey (past and present).

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Evolution of God 

(Portrait #1)

Waiting and working on me again.

Expecting You to show up.

I don’t know when; I don’t know how;

but I know You will.

You always do.

Thomas needed proof. 

To touch your wounds and know You were real.

To be certain You were true.

I need proof too.

Proof to know You aren’t the God I am leaving behind.

A god of only judgement and wrath;

limited in patience and mercy,

abounding in moodiness.

I need proof that this new look at You is real and true.

That it isn’t wrong to hope you aren’t a bastard

ready to smite me in my imperfection.

I keep replaying Pascal’s wager in my head.

What if I am wrong about who You are?

What if I am wrong about You?

What if I am wrong?

Hell seems too costly a bet, doesn’t it?

But I’m already here in hell 

if you are impossible to trust,

if You aren’t good.

I’ve known that hell.

Trying to please a cruel taskmaster.

Burying my talent for fear of failure.

Afraid to lift my eyes to Yours,

because I am sure I will only see disappointment.

I’ve listened to the marching orders;

all legalistic and concerned about the outside.

I’ve carried my whitewash and marched right into the tomb

and away from You.

Straight on into Hell anyway.

Because what if I am wrong?

So I ask the same old questions 

as I sit across from one with a degree and listening ear.

I explain the eroding of a god I believed existed but cannot follow now.

In the middle of my messy waiting and working,

as I work on how I see me and understand You;

You come into view.

Closer and closer.

Until I feel Your breath again.

Pneuma.

You are more than I thought You were.

Bigger than previous glance.

Grander than first believed.

More mysterious than expected.

You show up, just like You always do.

And even while trying to hide away, 

I look up into Your face,

hoping to catch a glimpse without Your awareness.

And I see Your eyes awash with tears, 
and wonder for the first time if the tears are born from love, not disappointment?

And I see the fire in Your expression,
and wonder if I misinterpreted the fury? Was it really the thunder of laughter?

And I am blinded by the smile that bends Your mouth upward,
and dare to imagine what life would be like if You are more than I believed You were?

What if I was wrong?

15 Things I Never Thought I'd Say

Sometimes life surprises us.

We do, say, experience, like, or believe things we never would have anticipated.

Here's a list of some things I never thought I would say.


1. I love homeschooling.
Homeschooling was always an educational option in my husband's mind. I resisted the idea of home education during the entirety of our dating days. And then I resisted the idea of home education during the first few years of our marriage. And then, I read this book and realized I wouldn't have to fill my closet with denim skirts, make a bun with my hair that could not be cut, or say goodbye to my mascara. (It is my cosmetic staple, otherwise my eyelashes disappear and people think I am sick.) 

Our choice to home educate was an intense time of wrestling for my husband and me, and I was scared of the burden I thought accompanied this monumental task. And I thought it would end up sucking the joy out of life and leave me worn and ragged. But I was wrong. Oh, so wrong. Home education has been one of the greatest and most surprising blessings of my life.


2. Cheesecake is yummy.
I am a picky eater. I have been since my early days. I was so picky I was subjected to a "taste of the week" by my mother who felt I needed to expand my culinary horizons. I am still slightly traumatized. I digress.

My pickiness, however, was more often determined by my whims and not from actually trying the food. Before you berate me, please understand I was an equal opportunity exclusionist. I rejected my fair share of desserts as well.  Cheesecake, sadly, was in this category for far too long. And then I got brave and tasted raspberry cheesecake during a weekend marriage retreat while facing the romantic view of a lake. The rest is history and often shows up in its double chocolate form for my birthday.


3. Broccoli is one of my favorite vegetables.
My mom likes to recount my double-fisted days of carrying around raw broccoli and calling them trees. As I grew, the stench from cooking this green veggie was enough to cause mild nausea. And then, as a mature and growing-up adult, I decided to actually try these cooked arbors. And now this super-food is a staple in my diet.

4. I was skinny in high school.

I thought I was overweight. Partially because I can clearly recall as a ten-year old sitting in Dr. Gaines' office while she read from the ridiculous chart that matched a person's actual height with their most desirable weight. Nonetheless, I felt fat and that mindset has lived with me all my life, regardless of my actual size. I look back now, in my post-pregancy body (x3), and realize that sweetly beautiful high school junior who'd never been kissed, was lovely just the way she was. And skinny. I never would have believed it then or ventured to say it.  But now I can. I was skinny in high school and rocked those parachute pants.


5. Sure, you can have PB & J for breakfast.
Parenthood leads you to speak crazy words. Desperate times, ya know? And sometimes, you learn the battles you thought were worth fighting aren't really that important...like the occasional odd meal at breakfast. Now excuse me while I go tell my son to stop sitting on his sister's head.


6. Using an e-reader isn't so bad.
I am old school. I need to engage all my senses (well, maybe not taste) when reading a book. I want to hear the binding as it collapses on itself and opens up a fictional world to me. I want to inhale the aroma of an old book from the library shelf. I was to touch the paper and see the bookmark keeping my place...you know, so I can see how blasted far I really am in the book. For these, and many other prejudicial reasons, I long eschewed e-readers. I turned my nose up and dismissed them. And then, I was on vacation and needed a textbook for a seminary class and Amazon saved my behind. And then a book I was drooling over was offered for like $2.99. And I actually used my Kindle and found out there's a lot of advantages to engaging only 2 of my 5 senses when reading. I can highlight passages in the color of my choice and then it logs all my highlighted sections in own special list for my use at the touch of the screen. It's pretty brilliant...and organized. I like organized. So all in all, I no long view e-readers as literary pariahs. OK, that's a little dramatic. In other words, I'll keep the Kindle and actually read some books on it.


7. Red onion tastes great on salad.
This is pretty self-explanatory. I have long cooked with onions (and then picked them out of the finished dish) but I never thought I would find myself eating raw onion on my salad and loving it!


8. Washing dishes is a happy place for me.
I didnt' grow up with a dishwasher. I was sure doing the dishes occupied one of Dante's levels of hell. For all but 3 months of my married life I have used, and loved having a dishwasher. My goal is to run the dishwasher once a day but inevitably when I have been disciplined and cooked at home (and not given my husband puppy-dog eyes so he agrees to going out) I find I have more dishes at the end of the day than space in the dishwasher. So, I shine up the sink, fill the left side with sudsy water and find a happy place. The kids leave me alone, my hands are enveloped in warmth, and I can let my mind wander as I look out the window toward the backyard. Who knew that hand-washing dishes would serve as a mini spa in my kitchen?


9. It's okay if you don't like me.
I am a recovering people-pleaser. Everyday, it's a choice to live for more than what people might think of me. Being a child of divorce can sometimes lead people to adopt the role of appeaser and I lived much of my life trying to make and keep everybody happy. Two things happened. 1) I was fatigued and 2) wait for it, wait for it...I was never successful. Winds up that you can't make everybody happy. Who knew? Oh, well, yes, Abraham Lincoln did. Anywhoo. Ever so slowly, ever so gingerly, I am bravely whispering until I can shout it that it's okay if you don't like me. I am living for more than the approval of others.


10. My worth is not determined by my performance.
There is so much baggage here for me. So many issues and reasons why but it all boils down to this...I was in my thirties before I realized I had succumb to the lie that what I did = what I was worth. And now several years later, I am finding freedom in proclaiming that my value is separate from my performance. Like all lies we've broken in over time and have allowed to accompany us, this one tries to creep in and sabotage me, but I am so on to it. My worth is NOT determined by what I do, what I say, or how I say it. 


11. God calls women to ministry.

I was raised Southern Baptist. That fact, therefore, should explain why I never, ever thought I would speak these words. I was told I would make a great pastor's wife or children's teacher. But called to vocational ministry where a women would teach men? Oh no. 

Then I was introduced to the Church of God (Anderson) when my husband was only my boyfriend. And then prominent male voices in my life affirmed the call they saw but I couldn't. And I wrestled with the teachings of my childhood that would have limited God's plans for me. And in November 2004, I stood before peers and colleagues and declared God had called me, a woman, to ministry. You see, the chromosomal configuration of females don't disqualify them from ministry. It's something I never predicted I would say.


12. I wish my clothes could smell like smoke one more time.

My papa was my hero and I was the apple of his eye. He died suddenly 23 days before my thirteenth birthday. I still remember the coral sweater I was wearing that February morning when I heard he was gone. My papa was also a smoker, which meant every weekend visit meant coming home smelling like a cigarette with legs. And I really didn't like it. one. single. bit. I hated it. But in the days, weeks, months, and years that followed his death, I found I would have given anything to complain just one more time that my clothes were Pall Mall scented. If they were it'd mean he was here and I would gladly endure any size nicotine cloud for that to happen.


13. Ice cream is delicious when infused with coffee flavor.
It does not escape me that 1/3 of my list concerns food. Don't judge. Food matters. I digress. again.

This statement is a no-brainer for java lovers everywhere. I, however, do not belong to that club. I am part of the coffee club whose mantra is "loves the way it smells, gags on the way it tastes". I have tried coffee. I really have. And then I discovered Mocha Frappes and found myself blissfully aware of the benefits of the coffee-flavor. And then I uncovered Ben & Jerry's best kept secret...Coffee Toffee Crunch (aka heaven in a cardboard container). All of this has led me to one conclusion: chocolate and coffee in frozen dairy form is one of the things that makes life worth living. After Jesus, Paul, my children, friends, and such. 


14. I would never choose to go back to my wedding day.
Life is too good now. I have never been more secure and settled in my marriage than I am now. My husband and I know how to better love each other. We have clearer perspective more of the time. We are braver. Steadier. Stronger. Surer. My wedding day was wonderful and everything it should be, but it was only the beginning. The journey is sweeter and more precious now then it has ever been.


15. I'd rather not have a fountain Diet Coke from McDonald's.
Uhh...nope. Never said it. Never will.

Random Things On My Mind

This was a recent conversation between me and my 6-year old son...
Levi: I don't want to go upstairs because I'm afraid monsters will chase me.

Me: Monsters aren't real.

Levi: When I'm scared I don't think of that.

His response is rather brilliant. His self-awareness was impressive.
And he easily explained the problem why many of us, who've accumulated more years then he,
have remained paralyzed in the face of fear.

When face to face with the things that scare us, we often forget what is true.
Truth can be a substantial aid to exercising courage.
Truth dismantles fear, piece by piece.
Truth strong-arms fear.

I wonder what more could be done,
what messes could be avoided, 
what dreams could be realized,
if the battle of fear was fought remembering what is true?

Remembering what is true in the face of fear is the evidence of right thinking and sound judgment and that comes from one place...

For God has not given us a spirit of fearfulness, but one of power, love, and sound judgment.

2 Timothy 1:7

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"My attitude depends on how you treat me."

This appeared on the Facebook page of one of my cyber-world friends.
And I shake my head.
Not because I don't actually live this statement out sometimes.
I do.
There are times when I have been treated poorly and my attitude follows suit.

I shake my head because I never want this proclamation to be the way things are supposed to be. 
I shake my head because this statement relinquishes my power in choosing my own response.
This statement implies your choices will determine mine.
This statement removes my power to choose for myself.
For those who want to blame everyone else for personal troubles, this statement can be a comfort.
For those wishing to do the hard work of maturing and health, this statement is a death knell.

I aspire to treat others based on a standard outside of myself.
I wish to treat others in a way that is not dependent upon the actions of others.
The ideal for human interaction needs to be greater than you or me.
Greater than our own fragile humanity.
Greater than our own propensity toward selfish behavior.

This statement is the thinking of a child.
A playground mentality.
A swingset mantra.
And there is far too much to experience, learn, and do for life to be short-circuited by childish thinking.

Everyone of us must be willing to take responsibility for our own attitudes and choices.
That is the decision of an adult. Of maturity.
Let's get busy growing up.

When I was a child, I spoke and thought and reasoned as a child. 

But when I grew up, I put away childish things.  

1 Corinthians 13:11

Jillian Michaels and Seminary

In Jillian Michael's 30 Day Shred DVD,
in the middle of infuriating squats and strength exercises,
she says this profound statement:

Stress brings change.

I literally stopped in the middle of the workout.
I was dumbfounded.
(And perhaps my thighs were screaming for a short respite).
Still, I was immediately struck.

Stress brings change.

It's true for our physical bodies.
It's true for our emotional selves too.
And for our mental growth.
And for our spiritual journeys.

Stress brings change.

It's not guaranteed change for the better.
But the fact is, when stress shows up on the scene, 
stress will not leave us the same.

I've begun work on an online master's degree.
Seminary work to be exact.
And classes started this week.

In five days, I...

read 94 pages in 4 different books

wrote 7 forum posts (substantive responses only, please)

listened to 1 lecture

took 1 quiz

sent 2 (slightly panicky) e-mails to professors

I can't tell you how many times I wanted a paper sack.
Hyperventilate is not just a word for Martha Speaks.
Stress, he's been a constant companion of mine.
(If stress were personified I don't really know what gender it'd be, 
but after this week, I'm not in the mood to say stress is female.)

Yet in all this, I remember Jillian Michaels, and her words.

Stress brings change.

After all this work, I will be changed.
I pray it is for the better.
I pray this stress of further study is not wasted, 
brings improvement, 
draws me closer to God, 
deepens my understanding of faith, 
connects me with others who enrich my journey.

Stress brings change.

So, I'll load up on paper sacks.
and I will welcome stress,
especially if he brings desired change.

Harnessing the Creative

My eldest is a creative.
A born entrepreneur.
Energetic.
Bursting at the seams with ideas.

She's what I call "a starter".
She's always dreaming up the next big thing.
Always raring to go.

She is such a starter, in fact, 
that many of her efforts are formed
in her mind and ready for action
at a moment's notice.

Such a short moment's notice, in fact, 
that she often takes initiative 
without asking permission from Paul or I 
about the next big venture.

And when my husband or I put on the brakes,
she can get frustrated.
When we call a halt to her visions, 
she can become sad.

And it got me thinking recently...
Is this what it might be like for us if we get ahead of God?

How often do we go about our lives,
with our own ideas,
our own agenda,
our plans,
and we've never allowed God into our process?

We've taken initiative, 
we drawn up the blueprints,
marked out the path,
and then, and only then,
do we take time to talk to God.

And sometimes, Abba will put the kibosh 
on all our carefully laid plans.
The Parent who knows us best and loves us most
can slam on the brakes
to our seemingly brilliant ideas.

And we can get frustrated.
We can become sad.
Given a long enough period of time, 
we might become bitter
or resentful
or despondent toward God.
We might begin to believe
He really doesn't want us to thrive.

The truth is, 
I love my daughter.
Every single cell of her.
She makes me tired.
I sigh (a lot).
I wish for nap time to be reinstated.
But I wouldn't change one creative ounce of her.
I yearn to see her succeed.
I want to help her dream.
I desire to do all I can to help her ideas come to fruition.

But that happens when she is willing to come alongside
and work with her parents...
not just tell them what she's doing;
not just move ahead with little thought 
to the opinion of the two people who know her best and love her most.

My daughter's best chance of success
is working in tandem with the ones
who can help bring the aspirational to reality.
At the age of 8, that would be us, her parents.

God loves us.
Every single ounce of us.
And He loves to see His children reflecting His creative nature.
He also desires a people willing to follow Him.
A people listening, seeing, responding to His action in this world.
And our best chance for success; 
the best scenario for bringing the aspirational to reality, 
comes from working in tandem with God...
every step of the way.

If we don't, we might find ourselves frustrated.
Or doubting.
Or fretful.
Or confused.

May we neither run ahead of God nor drag our feet behind.
May we keep ever in perfect pace with Him.
Ever single creative, glorious ounce of us.

A man’s heart plans his way,

But the Lord directs his steps.

(NKJV)

We plan the way we want to live,

 but only God makes us able to live it.

(MSG)

- Proverbs 16:9

i should be asleep

I will probably regret it in the morning.
This staying up so late.
Too late.

The husband's away.
Two states over.
I anticipate great gain for him,
for God is sparking within him.

The kids are camping out.
In the living room.
On home-made bed rolls.
They took my admonishment to heart
and went to sleep quickly.
At least the younger two did.

And here I sit
on the bed.
Tired.
Weary.
And awake.

Sometimes living feels a constant reaching.
Stretching out toward that which is not yet attained.
Grasping for that which is just beyond reach.
There's always another project.
Another task.
Another deadline.
Relief of a job complete is short lived.

And I should be sleeping,
because I have been working
and thinking
and imagining
and listening
and talking
and praying
and fighting a days-long headache.


Yet I find myself here.
A familiar space.
A comfortable place.
With nothing much to say really.

Except this...

Even in this late hour, 
God is here.
And in the morning, 
when I anticipate regret of the midnight oil
and sleep will cling hard to my eyes, 
God will be there too.

I am held.
Hemmed in - 
before and behind.

And thankful for every breath afforded, 
in this messy, complicated, beautiful life.

What Pandora Showed Me About Faith

I stood staring at the Kindle screen.

A song played on my Kari Jobe channel.
I liked the song...I thought.
Until I went over to press the thumbs up icon.
And then, I froze.




photo credit: theradioagency.com

Just standing and staring.

And debating.

i. hate. exercise.

parenting is like dying a thousand deaths.

every. single. day. 

so is marriage.

every. single. day. 

so is faith.

every. single. day. 

We Are Like Night and Day

My head was about to explode.
If another word was to pass the lips of my 8 year old,
I was fairly certain I would scream.

Where does she get that verbal stamina?
Seriously?
She has two parents who combined don't talk as much as she does.
Not if we have our druthers.

I kept thinking if black smoke clouds
were formed from speaking,
the EPA might come after my daughter 
because of the noise pollution emitted.
There are surely government regulations
for these sort of things.

Sometimes, 
in the super honest recesses 
of my heart
I ask myself
how I will survive this sweet, creative, loquacious child.

She is SO different from me.
If I am night, she's like day.

But God, 
He knows what He's doing.
When He puts families together, 
He does it for a reason.

This verbose little girl
will quickly become a young lady,
will quickly grow to an independent woman,
and God is using her to refine me.
To shape me.
To help me learn greater grace.
To help me practice greater patience.
To remind me life isn't about me.

I have something to learn.
And God is using even my daughter, 
different as we are, 
to make me a little more like Himself.
All I need to do is enter into this process
with anticipation
and wonder
and joy.
May I be willing and ready to learn
the hard and beautiful lessons
that only a gregarious girl 
can help me master.